We Are Young
by D7Tribute
Summary: Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta. Set halfway through Catching Fire to after Mockingjay. So containing spoilers if you're strange enough not to have read them yet. It's mostly Annie POV but we get a little Finnick action too. I really can't write summaries can I? T because it's The Hunger Games. Much love for Fannie and One does not simply get over Finnick Odair's death. :'
1. Preview

"I don't know about this Finn. I mean – What if I don't – I – it's really far- I just –"

"Don't think about it Annie. I've got you. I've always got you." As usual his voice makes me feel immediately at ease. I feel myself relax, my muscles loosening, preparing for the drop. His warm hand snakes out to entwine his fingers in mine. I sigh and nod. We take 3 long, synchronized strides and leap off the edge of the cliff. Arms out in front, hands still locked together. The air rushes through my hair and I can smell the salt of the ocean whizzing past me. We break the surface of the water with our hands, and are submerged in the murky depths.

_I shoot up into a sitting position and whip my eyes around the room. He's not here, of course he's not. Why would he be? He can't be. I pull my knees to my chin and begin to cry the first of many tears for today. The realisation hits me like a slap in the face. It's the Quarter Quell reaping day. This year, the 75th Hunger Games, marks another twenty-five years which mean another 'special twist' on the games. As if they weren't twisted enough. I can see the horrible yellow card that has thrown my entire world upside down, and on it was written one of the worst things I never thought I'd hear.

"On the Seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Existing. Pool. Of. Victors. Finnick had almost shouted to me over and over again that neither of us would have to go back, ever. Even when I had finished teetering on the edge of a breakdown, he was still whispering to me, more for himself I think, so I let him talk me to sleep. That was 2 days ago, and he'd never left me. Now, he is nowhere to be seen; on the day when I need him the most. As if on cue, his bronze head pokes around the door. He smiles at me, the skin around his brilliant green eyes crinkles up a little. I sniff and pull the duvet up over my tear-streaked face, wiping the moisture away.

"Oh, Annie." He sighs, smiling a little sad smile. He closes the distance between us and wraps his strong arms around my fragile shoulders. I lean into his chest, inhaling the smell of salt, and warmth and _Finnick._

"I'm so scared Finn." I whisper, wishing today away.

"I know Annie, I know. You just have to sit through it. I can't promise much, but I can promise you that I will do everything I can to make sure you do NOT get reaped again. I damn near broke my heart last time." He whispers into my hair. He pulls away too soon and I look up, fresh tears painting my cheeks.

"Just wait outside for me before it – happens."

He nods, and tears welling in his own eyes, he kisses both my cheeks then my forehead before walking downstairs. I hear the front door click shut and I squeeze my eyes closed. I don't want to be alone. But I have to.

I have to face the reaping today.

**Just a bit of a preview to get you in the mood for the story. In this fanfic you get to see what it's like while Annie's watching the games, when they brought her to the Capitol. What it's like to be tortured and what she goes through when Finnick goes off to fight the Capitol and finally, dies. Also what happens to her after the rebellion. Just an idea that's managed to bury itself in my brain and make a house there. If we reach say, 5 reviews, I'll carry on. If not I'll drop it. I just want to know what you think of it :) Thank you much yes!**

**- D7Tribute oxoxox**


	2. The Reaping

"I don't know about this Finn. I mean – What if I don't – I – it's really far- I just –"

"Don't think about it Annie. I've got you. I've always got you." As usual his voice makes me feel immediately at ease. I feel myself relax, my muscles loosening, preparing for the drop. His warm hand snakes out to entwine his fingers in mine. I sigh and nod. We take 3 long, synchronized strides and leap off the edge of the cliff. Arms out in front, hands still locked together. The air rushes through my hair and I can smell the salt of the ocean whizzing past me. We break the surface of the water with our hands, and are submerged in the murky depths.

_I shoot up into a sitting position and whip my eyes around the room. He's not here, of course he's not. Why would he be? He can't be. I pull my knees to my chin and begin to cry the first of many tears for today. The realisation hits me like a slap in the face. It's the Quarter Quell reaping day. This year, the 75th Hunger Games, marks another twenty-five years which mean another 'special twist' on the games. As if they weren't twisted enough. I can see the horrible yellow card that has thrown my entire world upside down, and on it was written one of the worst things I never thought I'd hear.

"On the Seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Existing. Pool. Of. Victors. Finnick had almost shouted to me over and over again that neither of us would have to go back, ever. Even when I had finished teetering on the edge of a breakdown, he was still whispering to me, more for himself I think, so I let him talk me to sleep. That was 2 days ago, and he'd never left me. Now, he is nowhere to be seen; on the day when I need him the most. As if on cue, his bronze head pokes around the door. He smiles at me, the skin around his brilliant green eyes crinkles up a little. I sniff and pull the duvet up over my tear-streaked face, wiping the moisture away.

"Oh, Annie." He sighs, smiling a little sad smile. He closes the distance between us and wraps his strong arms around my fragile shoulders. I lean into his chest, inhaling the smell of salt, and warmth and _Finnick._

"I'm so scared Finn." I whisper, wishing today away.

"I know Annie, I know. You just have to sit through it. I can't promise much, but I can promise you that I will do everything I can to make sure you do NOT get reaped again. I damn near broke my heart last time." He whispers into my hair. He pulls away too soon and I look up, fresh tears painting my cheeks.

"Just wait outside for me before it – happens."

He nods, and tears welling in his own eyes, he kisses both my cheeks then my forehead before walking downstairs. I hear the front door click shut and I squeeze my eyes closed. I don't want to be alone. But I have to. I have to face the reaping today.

I drag myself out of bed with sheer willpower and wander over to the shower, slowly pulling off the creased under clothes that I spent the night in. I flip the switch and warm water streams down my body. I lean against the cool, tiled wall and gaze at a fixed point on the floor until my eyes go out of focus.

I slip a navy blue chiffon dress over my head and slide my feet into a pair of silvery ballet flats. I think about tying my hair back in a long fishtail plait but I decide against it, letting my dark brown waves flow freely. I ease the door open, even though there's no one in the house to disturb, and almost crash into Finnick on the stairs. He stares at me wide-eyed.

"You look..." He begins, but his voice trails off as he finally locks eyes with me.

"Like hell, I bet. I just can't help but think, what if? You know?" I sigh and drop my head. His long sun-browned fingers catch my chin and pull it up to look into my eyes.

"Annie, I told you, nothing is going to happen. Okay?" He plants a small kiss on my forehead and entwines my hand in his. We walk slowly down the stairs and curl up on the sofa until there's a light knock on the front door.

I ease myself out of Finnick's arms and tiptoe over to the door, despite his eerily silent footsteps I know he's followed me so I lean into him for a final hug in my house before the reaping. I pull open the door and Mags is stood in a pair of ancient faded turquoise trousers and a loose white shirt. She gives us a sad smile and I nod my head. She takes my free hand and we walk down the little lane that connects Victors' Village to the main square as the strange and mismatched trio we are. I notice other victors creeping gravely to their equally likely dooms. I just hope that none of us are chosen.

We earn sympathetic half-smiles and hushed conversations about us as Mags and I trudge after Finnick through the throngs of people. I sniff and blink back the tears that begin to cloud my vision and manage to steady my shaking hands as I sign in. As usual, each gender is sorted on opposite sides of the square but today, they have not penned us into age groups. I've lost Mags, but I find another victor, Pearl, she lives next door to me in the village and sometimes she'll bring me cakes from the bakery on one of my bad days. Pearl won the year before last, so she's only 19, with long flowing bronze hair and intensely green eyes she could be Finnick's younger sister, but if anything she's more like mine. When Finnick's ,_services,_ are required in the Capitol and Mags isn't around, Pearl is the one who spends all day with me, letting me cry myself out on her shoulder, cooking dinner, sleeping in a spare bedroom, leaving if I want to be alone. She's just an angel, and one of the people I couldn't bear to have thrown back into the arena.

Our district escort, Valentina, waltzes onstage in a hideous scarlet dress with her usual sweetheart neckline and hearts of all sizes cut from the hem, but this one has HOLES in the shape of hearts all over and a light pink fluffy material spills out of them. Her trademark fuchsia platform stilettos with heels the size of my forearm makes her twice the height of the microphone which she then has to lift completely off of the floor for her voice to carry over the crowd. My eyes slide sideways to glance at Pearl, she catches my eye and we stifle a giggle. These Capitol people are really funny, even in the darkest of scenarios.

Valentina drones on and on about the rebellion and how much we owe the Capitol, and by extension, President Snow himself. I tune out Valentina's words and my green-grey eyes search the ocean of men on the other side of the square for Finnick. I spot him staring back at me, the corners of my lips turn up in a poorly attempted smile, and he half-smiles back. It takes all I have to tear my eyes away from him and watch Valentina trot over to the glass bowl with the names of every living female victor that district four has, which is a lot. Her pink-tinged and carefully manicured hand emerges with a small rectangle of paper, carefully folded in half. I see Finnick out of the corner of my eye and he's tensed up, emerald eyes still boring into my very soul. Valentina smoothes out the paper and reads the name out loud and clear. Finnick's face crumples and gasps run through the crowd, I feel hands pull me from Pearl's grasp. The peacekeepers have wrenched me from the crowd and led me halfway to the stage before I put two and two together. My legs go numb and I fall to the floor, I pull my knees to my chin and squeeze my eyes shut. I rock back and forth trying to suppress the flashbacks from my first games. Jay, decapitated, gone. Glint of sword. Slash of blade. Tear of flesh. Crunch of bone. Blood is everywhere. Red spots in my vision. Can't see. Where's Finnick? Is he gone? Like Jay? Glint of sword. Slash of blade. Tear of flesh. Crunch of bone. Blood is everywhere. No. NO. NO!

I chant the word under my breath like the lyrics to a song. I think I see him. Behind the scarlet spots in my vision. Yes, I'm sure it's him. He's pulling me to my feet, enveloping me in a tight bone-crushing hug until I stop shaking. I take a few deep breaths and he hands me back to Pearl. I narrow my eyes at the stage. Trying to decipher who volunteered to take my place, to die for me. I don't need to though; of course I know who it is. It's Mags. Valentina shakes the whole thing off as a simple case of stage-fright and immediately resumes the reaping. Pearl wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes my hand, preparing me for my next friend who has to die. But this one's not a friend, or even a stranger. He's someone I know all too well.

Finnick makes his way shakily up the stairs to the stage. I get to have a few minutes with him before he leaves. I can't cry. I won't cry. I am sure that Snow has done this to kill off any competition that women in the Capitol have for Finnick. My blood boils and I shudder with rage. How DARE he suggest the death of Finnick. How DARE he take away the very thing that holds me to this earth. Finnick is the reason I didn't starve myself as soon as I won. After the death of my parents and then the reaping and eventual killing of my little sister, I was sure that Snow could not take anything else from me. I got to know Finnick slowly, I didn't love him straight away, and I didn't even like him to begin with. After we became more than friends, I was sure that he was the only thing that the president could not take away from me; but I didn't know how wrong I was.


	3. Broken Into Pieces

I don't know what to do. I try to plan what I'm going to say to him. How I'm going to manage to pull myself away from his grasp when it's time to let go. I collapse back into Pearl's arms in floods of tears. I sniff and try to pull myself together. For Finnick.

Pearl leads me up to the justice building where friends and remaining family of Mags and Finnick are beginning to gather. People see us and clear a path through the small crowd for us, sending tearful and pitying looks at me. I can see the steps up to the Justice Building and I stop in my tracks. I haven't set foot in that building since my victory speech here 5 years ago. I had never planned on coming back, yet I had to. Pearl takes my hand and begins to lead me up the stairs before she walks straight into a Peacekeeper who appears out of nowhere.

"Excuse me, sir, but Annie and I need to go and see the tributes." Pearl says very politely to the peacekeeper who stands like a wall between us and the door.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you do that Miss Collins. There have been rule changes this year. The tributes can no longer say goodbye to their loved ones in person. If Mr Odair or Ms Taylor wishes to say goodbye to you or Miss Cresta, they shall have to write letters to be delivered by their mentors if they do not come back." The peacekeeper refuses to budge and I step back from him. When I look up at the window I think I can see Finnick and Mags watching the silent argument Pearl and the peacekeeper are having as she tries to stare him down. I catch Finnick's emerald gaze and hold it, the look in his eyes beg the question: Can you say goodbye? I shake my head slightly and feel tears begin to roll down my cheeks.

"Fine." I hear the frustrated mutter of surrender come from Pearl as the peacekeeper taps the butt of his gun, forcing her to stand down. She turns, the tip of her long bronze ponytail flicking him round the face, and walks over to me to slide a comforting arm around my shoulders. I tear me gaze away from Finnick and walk back to the victor's village with Pearl.

"Come on, Annie. You have to eat something." Pearl begs, shoving a plate of toast spread thickly with sardines under my nose. After staring down my nose at the food I take it in my own hands, eating it slowly, one bite every few minutes. Pearl sighs in defeat and flops beside me on the sofa, in the same place Finnick was just this morning.

"Time to watch the recap of the reapings today I think." She murmurs to herself as she flicks on the television. As usual, her timing is impeccable. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith are chattering excitedly about the Quarter Quell this year. Of course, all they can talk about again this year are the Star-crossed lovers of district twelve. As lovely as Peeta and Katniss seem to be, they're situation is just plain boring now.

"Oh, and can you believe it Caesar? Miss Everdeen _has_ to go back into the arena this year, but the male tribute is between Peeta Mellark and Haymitch Abernathy." Claudius exclaims.

"I know, Claudius. Will Mr Mellark be reaped or will he mentor? If you ask me, folks, I think he's going in that arena with Katniss regardless of what happens. Find out at the end of the show ladies and gentlemen." Caesar replies, beaming with excitement.

"Right then ladies and gentlemen, on with the reapings. And," prompts Claudius.

"May the odds be ever in your favour!" he and Caesar shout in unison as the screen fades out and into the reaping tapes.

The cameras scan the crowd, zeroing in on some of the more famous victors. DISTRICT ONE. The text reads along the bottom of the screen. The escort for One, a plump woman coloured yellow from head to toe, calls the names one after another.

"Cashmere Gray and Gloss Gray!" she bellows into the microphone. They're the classically gorgeous district one careers. They're brother and sister, with curly blonde hair and contrastingly dark eyes. They won in two consecutive years and the brother won the year before I did.

The district two reapings begin with the same routine, scanning the crowd before settling in on the escort, a very tall and thin young man with bright green hair who reminds me suspiciously of a tree.

"Enobaria Richardson!" He shouts to the camera. Before he has tie to read out the name of the male tribute, a man in his early forties strides onstage, introducing himself as Brutus Howard.

District Three manages to dredge up Beetee James and Wiress Hughes; the pair has dark hair and ashen skin, despite both being in their late fifties.

Then there's me crashing to the ground in despair and Finnick running over to help. Mags volunteering and Finnick himself getting reaped. The camera crews even noticed the small exchange Finnick and I had before anyone's name was called and they throw that in at the beginning.

District Five's tributes are nothing compared to those already chosen. The woman must be at least eighty and needs three peacekeepers to help her up the stairs onto the stage. The man is about thirty and more drunk than Haymitch Abernathy.

The tributes from district Six are two morphling addicts. Their skin is yellowing and saggy, their eyes are wide and almost too big for their sockets. I sigh in pity for them.

District Seven reaps Johanna Mason, who's a good friend of Finnick's because he formed an alliance in his games with her older sister, and Blight Fisher, who doesn't say much but it's clear by the pain on his face as he looks at what must be his little boy that he's not expecting to come home.

The district Eight tributes are Cecelia Jenkins, who has to detach three small children from her legs, and Woof Butler, an older man in his late forties.

District nine gets Maria Barnes who I know from her victory tour the year before last, and an older man who looks like he could drop at any moment.

Ten's tributes are too drunk to care anymore. The woman is about Mags's age with long curly hair that has managed to stay its natural red. The man almost falls unconscious as he staggers onto the stage, sloshing alcohol from an unlabeled glass bottle.

Eleven calls out Seeder Powell, her brown hair streaked with grey, and Chaff Price, who lost an arm in his games and has spent years passing a bottle back and forth with Haymitch.

Finally, the district twelve escort calls out Katniss Everdeen, who everyone knew was going to go back into the games anyway. Then the crazy pink-haired lady calls out Haymitch's name, but he's quickly replaced by the Mellark boy. Caesar and Claudius actually get a bit teary at this moment as they say that the odds will never really be in their favour, but they quickly recover to tell us all to make sure we tune in tomorrow to watch the opening ceremony. Like we have a choice, viewing of the Hunger Games is mandatory, it's watch it or death, so you watch it.

The television goes on to say something about the dark days and district thirteen but I've stopped listening by then. Pearl turns it off and walks over to me.

"Did you want me to stay over tonight, Annie?" She asks, as if she thinks I'll say no. I nod my head and she takes my hand. We walk up the stairs and stand in front of the door of the spare bedroom. Pearl turns to go in, but I pull her into a quick hug.

"Thank you." I mutter, genuinely meaning it.

"It's ok, Annie. I'm right in there if you need me. You know that." She says into my hair. She pulls away and gives me a sad smile before retreating into her room and quietly closing the door. I wander over to my room and stare at the wood of the door for a few minutes before actually opening it to go to bed. I strip off the dress I wore for the reaping and replace it with a pair of old cotton shorts and one of Finnick's baggy jumpers. I clamber into bed and switch my pillow with the one he usually has. Breathing in the scent of his hair, I slip into a strangely peaceful dreamland before the nightmares creep in.

**Bearing in mind that I only own Pearl Collins (see what I did there?) and Maria Barnes, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It took me a few days to write because, what with it being the first week of the summer holidays, I had to catch Writers' Block. I am also working on an English project where I have to write a modern day story based on my favourite book series, so I've been working on that too. I might just have to post it on here to see what you lot think of it. I know that a lot of my readers are American but I am British so I obviously spell some words differently to you, please remember that before you criticize my spelling, even though it's a bit crap as well. Thanks for reading and please take the time to review as your opinions really do mean a lot to me. Thanks again.**

**-D7Tribute oxoxoxoxoxoxox**


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